To their own devices: Pablo Larrain's 'The Club'

June 3, 2009

Our world is made up of forces. Fire and ice. Faith and doubt. Love and hate. Marvel Comics and DC Comics. Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. Magic and Bird. Kobe and LeBron. Gravity. Inertia. Tectonic plates that subdue continents into vomiting up mountain ranges and swallowing down valleys, and this year's NBA Finals promises to be no different.

This year's Finals promises to be a physics lesson that drives home Newton's third law of motion: "for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction," and it is this law that promises to give us one of the most highly anticipated match-ups of all time. We've spent years wishing and hoping for it, and now it's here, ladies and gentlemen. The next Larry Bird will face off against the top Blue Devil himself tomorrow night, for tomorrow night is Round 1 of this century's Ali vs. Frazier. Tomorrow night Adam Morrison and JJ Redick will square off on the basketball court, as if this were the Trojan War, and they were Hector and Achilles. For once, in an age of greed and hypocrisy, the fans do get to win.

Maybe we had to wait for this matchup longer than we would have liked, but isn't patience a virtue? Doesn't absence make the heart grow fonder? Isn't this what makes it so great when sitcoms do reunion shows, and the whole cast gets back together, albeit a little overweight, not as attractive, and not nearly as funny? A long awaited matchup like what we are about to witness from Morrison and Redick is the stuff from which legends are conceived and Victorian romance novels are born. Isn't Adam Morrison the Elizabeth Bennet to JJ Redick's Fitzwilliam Darcy? College basketball fans who find the NBA so despicable, let go of your pride and your prejudice and love the fact we finally get to see our hoops dreams realized.

Because Adam Morrison of Gonzaga and JJ Redick of Duke bring no athleticism to the game, with the exception of the wrist flick that allows them to make such amazing shots, they are what dreams are made of. They are Shakespeare's iambic pentameter dribbling basketballs instead of syllables. In other words, it's like David Stern went down to the YMCA and held a free throw shooting contest to see who might lead the NBA into the 21st century, and the only regrets Mr. Stern has about the matter is that neither winner sports a headband or Rec-Specs. We'll just have to find a way to understand Adam's awesome moustache and to commiserate with JJ's backne. We'll just have to appreciate flat-footed grace and sheet of paper high ups.

These guys may have let us down in the 2006 NCAA Tournament when Duke lost to LSU and Gonzaga got knocked off by UCLA, both in the Sweet 16, but their stellar pro careers have more than made up for the tears they forced all basketball fans to shed three years ago. It's been a long wait, and some of us may have thought this book was finished; but, obviously, JJ Redick's 6 ppg beg otherwise. Obviously, JJ Redick still has another chapter to write.

Let's just hope that Adam Morrison can rise off the bench, like Jameer Nelson, and come to his team's rescue or else Kobe Bryant will be left on the court alone to play the role of Neutrogena, and let's face it, Kobe hasn't seen a guard like JJ all playoffs.

Cross your fingers. Turn your pajamas inside out. Look for shooting stars. Blow on dandelions and eye lashes because we live in a world of "equal and opposite reactions," and if#7 suits up and #6 doesn't, then it's just not fair; and best of all, if it does happen, then maybe Vitamin Water can make a commercial with two pale puppets playing Halo against one another.

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comments:

Yeah, I saw it. I didn't mind it cause I knew we had talked about it before his mail bag was posted. Otherwise, the English teacher in me might have felt slightly guilty. Now, it's just like we're Deep Impact and he's Armageddon. By the way, I liked Deep Impact better; even though, both were pretty terrible.